


Ramblin' Down The Lonely Highway

by Inuseiko



Series: 25 Days of Christmas Challenge [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Gen, Reader Insert, reader - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-08
Updated: 2015-03-08
Packaged: 2018-03-16 22:22:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3504920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inuseiko/pseuds/Inuseiko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Day 4 of the 25 Days of Christmas Challenge. The theme is Shopping for and/or Wrapping Gifts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ramblin' Down The Lonely Highway

**Author's Note:**

> This work is a submission for the Christmas/Holiday/Winter OTP challenge. I got it from my friend Gabriel on tumblr. Although, sadly, I can't remember the name of the original blog.

“Hey Dean, can you take me to the nearest Mall?”

“For what?”

“I need stuff.”

“I’m sure that Sam and I can get whatever stuff you need.”

“Deaaaan,” You groaned. “Aside from me having been stuck in this place for 2 weeks already, I need girl stuff and new clothes. Do you really want me to go into detail about exactly what I need and why? Cuz I will. I need-”

“Ah, no!” Dean said, jumping up, patting his pocket to check for his keys. “We’re going, I’m moving!”

You smile as you jog out after him, phase one successful. Now you’d be able to do your Christmas shopping without Dean getting too suspicious.

 

The drive was uneventful, you nodded your head along to the lyrics of Led Zeppelin’s Ramble On. It had been a while since you’d been outside and you were desperate for some fresh air.

_Leaves are falling all around, it’s time I was on my way.  
Thanks to you, I'm much obliged for such a pleasant stay. _

You watched the world roll by through your window. It seemed so different from before, filled as you were with the knowledge of demons, ghosts, and ghouls…Almost darker somehow. You sighed and slumped back in your seat, thinking back to how this whole thing started…

  
_But now it's time for me to go. The autumn moon lights my way._  
_For now I smell the rain, and with it pain, and it's headed my way._

You’d been in Colorado for the Denver Christkindl Market. You’d been flown out by your job to do a report on the event. Genuine traditional German food and events. It was supposed to be a simple job. Fly out for a week, do some research, eat some food, fly back, and get paid.

What you hadn’t counted on was for a psycho serial killer to take an interest in you.

_  
Sometimes I grow so tired, but I know I've got one thing I got to do..._

 

Dean glanced over at Richelle, watching her out of the corner of his eye. She looked tired. She’d was sleeping better than before. The last few nights in the bunker, he hadn’t heard her wake up screaming, hadn’t heard Sam come in to soothe her. Hadn’t lay there listening to her crying, wishing he’d gotten there just a little bit faster.

 _Ramble On, And now's the time, the time is now, to sing my song._  
_I'm goin' 'round the world, I got to find my girl, on my way._

He’d seen the cases in the papers. Something was tearing through young girls, carving them up without a struggle. There were never any witnesses, no evidence, even though the girls had clearly died in horrible agony. No sign that they were gagged or restrained, no sign that anything had happened to them until they just didn’t come in for work the next day. After talking with Sam, they figured that it had to be some sort of demon getting his kicks. No way was a human that good.

_I've been this way ten years to the day, Ramble On,  
Gotta find the queen of all my dreams. _

They’d gotten into town late that night. Sam had headed to the hotel to do some research. Dean headed to the bar. He had a feeling that the local color might have a few stories.

_Got no time to for spreadin' roots, the time has come to be gone.  
And to' our health we drank a thousand times, it's time to Ramble On._

She’d met him in a bar, a nice one. The place wasn’t a dive by any means. She’d been sitting at the bar, facing the door. Years of living in the city had taught her to always have a clear view of the exits. She’d noticed him the minute he’d walked in. It wasn’t every day that you saw a guy that painfully...pretty. It wasn’t in a feminine way by any means. He looked to be 6 feet at least, dressed in flannel and leather. But he was a gorgeous piece of man. By the way the other women at the counter were eying him, he wasn’t local.

You chuckled as you watched a few barflies approach him. It didn’t seem like he’d be lacking company tonight. You turned a page in your notes, continuing your conversation with the bartender. You were looking for the best spots in town to get food during the festival. Preferably the smaller ones that didn’t get as much traffic during the evenings. The bartender was cute and very helpful, but there was something about that man that kept drawing your eyes back to him. He’d moved to the dance floor with a leggy blond, clearly enjoying himself. The blonde’s boyfriend seemed to take offence to this, however. Surprisingly, the situation didn’t end it a fight, it ended in him buying the guy and his buddies a few beers. Choosing words over fighting showed that he wasn’t a total meathead either.

After a few choice words to the bartender, you went back to your work. It wasn’t long after that you heard noticed someone sit at the stool next to you.

“So you’re the lady I have to thank for the whiskey? Good choice. ”

You looked up, surprised. He was leaning on the bar, smiling down at you. You looked back to the bartender, who was grinning sheepishly, mouthing the word sorry. You sighed and smiled.

“Yeah, that was me. Impressive moves back there, seemed like that guy was spoiling for a fight.” You said, turning to face him.

“Nah, he just had a little too much to drink.” He said. “John, John Bonham.” He said, extending his hand to shake. You snorted, shaking your head. “What?” he said, chuckling.

“Don’t worry, I’m not local.” You said with a pointed look. “No need to lie about your name.” 

“I have no clue what you’re talking about, miss.” he said, looking hurt.

“Led Zeppelin? Really? You might as well have called yourself Ringo...” you said. His eyebrows went up and he smiled wider.

“It’s a force of habit,” he said with a shrug. “I move around a lot. But for a woman who knows real music? The name’s Dean.”

“Y/N.”

“Y/N…?”

“Do we really need last names?” you asked. He laughed again, waving over the bartender.

“A drink for my new friend here.” Dean said, grinning.

“Amaretto Sour, neat.” You said. You ignored his raised eyebrow. “What? Just cuz you drink whiskey doesn’t mean I have to burn my taste buds off, buddy.” He held up his drink, nodding at you.

“A toast to new friends?”  You rolled your eyes, but held up your drink.

“How about, to good luck in your endeavors?” Dean clinked his glass with yours, nodding solemnly. The two of you burst into laughter soon after.

_Mine's a tale that can't be told, my freedom I hold dear.  
How years ago in days of old, when magic filled the air. _

She’d been interesting from the start. He’d noticed her writing at the bar. She’d noticed him too, but never approached. He’d been relaxing at the bar when the bartender put a double of Jack in front of him. She’d beckoned him forward, whispering in his ear.

“We’ve got another out of towner here tonight. She asked me to send this to you, but I wasn’t supposed to tell. Consider it an apology for Brandi’s behavior. She likes seeing pretty boys get beat up by her boyfriend.”

Dean smiled and thanked her, taking his drink and moving to the other end of the bar.

 

She was fun to talk to, a travel reporter. She was also clearly interested in continuing their conversation over dinner. She said that she was in town for a festival and hinted that reporters got an expense budget for food and other fun things.

He’d smiled and started to answer when he felt a hand on his shoulder. It was Sam and he looked serious. He turned back to her, prepared to offer an excuse, but she was already scribbling something on a piece of paper. She tore it off and handed it to him.

“For if you find some free time.” She’d said.

_T'was in the darkest depths of Mordor, I met a girl so fair.  
But Gollum, and the evil one crept up and slipped away with her, her, her....yeah. _

She’d never expected to see him again. He’d left with his handsome friend, and she’d enjoyed the rest of her drink before heading out to dinner and then to bed. She’d woken up hanging from chains. Apparently the restaurant’s chef had taken a liking to her. He’d spoken to her with eyes that burned like fire. Telling her all the ways he was going to make her hurt.

“I don’t eat all of the girls, I leave em for the cleanup crews. Most of them are too filthy, even for me. But you…” he’d said, running a hand over your side and up to the neckline of your shirt. He grabbed tightly and ripped it open, using a knife to cut it off you. “You look delicious. I’m curious what kind of lotion you use, your skin is amazingly soft.” The first touch of the blade on your side was like lightning. The pain was sharp as he carved strange symbols into your flesh. You tried to pull away from his touch, but he held you in place. “Hold still baby, I want a taste.” You screamed until your voice was hoarse, shuddering when he finally stopped. He held up the strip of your flesh, examining it in the light. “The fat content is perfect… You look like you’d fry so deliciously. Hmm, I’d pair you with a red, hell…maybe even a whiskey.” He put the flesh to his lips, tearing off a chunk. He moaned as he licked his lips. “You are amazing. I think I’ll have another fresh slice before I get to work.”

You whimpered as he raised the knife again. He lifted it high, smirking, before a shot rang out, knocking him to the ground. You looked down to see him twitching slightly, half of his head blown away.

The feel of a hand on your cheek set you to screaming again.

“Hey, hey, it’s alright. You’re safe now.”

You opened your eyes to see Dean staring up at you. You wanted to sob, but the sound was caught in your throat as you caught sight of something over his shoulder. The man grabbed Dean and tossed him across the room.

“Putting your hands in another man’s plate, how rude.” His voice was garbled, probably due to the fact that the right half of his head, from the nose up, was a red pulpy mess. He looked down at his shirt, frowning. “And I really liked this body…” He advanced on Dean, knife in hand. Dean looked from him to you, brandishing a strange looking knife of his own.

“Looks like I improved it for you.” Dean scoffed. The creature snarled at him, advancing quickly. You watched with wide eyes as another man ran into the room, the same one from the bar. He took advantage of the creature’s distraction to stab the thing from behind with a sword. It uttered a horrible shriek.

“I’m going to make you pay for that,” it hissed. “And as for my dinner,” It snapped, red eyes burning into you. “I’ll be seeing you soon, darling.” It dropped to the ground after it finished speaking, the body collapsing in on itself like empty clothing.

“Uh Sam, it wasn’t supposed to do that.”

“I know that, Dean. I tried to tell you.” The taller man snapped. “The only way to kill a Pishacha is to stab it with a blessed blade and then decapitate it and burn the remains with purified oil.”

“It was eating her! What was I supposed to do? Let it kill her!?!”

“Well we can’t just leave her at a hospital,” Sam said, running a hand through its hair. “Once it regains its strength, it’s gonna come after her again.”

The burning in your side was returning now, and you were beginning to feel dizzy and cold. You only heard a few more words before you passed out from shock and blood loss.

“We’ll have to take her with us…”

_Gonna ramble on, sing my song. Gotta keep-a-searchin' for my baby..._  
_Gonna work my way, round the world. I can't stop this feelin' in my heart_

You jerked awake with a shiver, hand clutched to your side.

“You alright?” Dean asked, looking down at you. He watched as you nodded, lips pressed tightly together. Your hand was still pressed tightly to your side. He set the cruise control and reached over to take your hand. “Hey, we won’t let him get you. I promise.” You didn’t respond, you just closed your eyes and gripped his hand tightly.

He didn’t hang as far back as you had hoped, but you hadn’t expected him to after your episode in the car. If he noticed exactly what you bought in the stores between your clothes shopping, he pretended not to.

And when he drove a little faster on the way back to the bunker, he never complained about having to do it one handed either.

_Gotta keep searchin' for my baby. I can't find my bluebird!_

 


End file.
